Hundred Word Limit
by veerserif
Summary: Drabbles originally written for the inception100 community on livejournal. A variety of pairings, mostly Arthur/Ariadne and Dom/Mal. Newest drabble: "Cold Front"
1. Prompt 1

**a heady rush**

Word count: 100  
Challenge: First Impressions  
Characters/pairing: Cobb/Mal  
Warnings: None

* * *

Cobb clutches Mal's hand tightly, the other hand gripping his (brand-new) totem. Mal smiles, trying to reassure him, and Cobb wishes he could be as confident as her.

"Just relax, Dom." She rubs his knuckles gently, and Cobb takes a deep, shaky breath.

The building that appears in front of them is subtly wrong (it's not a good idea to think hard about how it works), but it's a decent first attempt. Cobb frowns, starting to improve it in little ways. Soon, a grin starts to form on his face.

"This is more fun than I thought it would be."

_Disclaimer for all drabbles: Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan._


	2. Prompt 2

**Serenade**

Word count: 100  
Pairing/Characters: Yusuf  
Warnings: Mildly insane.  
Prompt: Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, "you owe me." Look what happens with a love like that, it lights the whole sky.

* * *

None of the team dares to venture in Yusuf's deathtrap/laboratory, not since the incident involving Eames, three badly balanced beakers of a clear substance, rubber tubing and uncannily good timing. This unspoken arrangement suits Yusuf just fine.

Sweat rolls down the chemist's forehead as he adds another drop of a vile, semi-transparent liquid to the embryonic sedative with a precision that would worry Arthur. He watches the mixture intently, and then starts reciting Persian poetry under his breath. Nothing unexpected occurs, and Yusuf starts breathing normally again.

A little superstition never hurt anyone, and besides, he really likes those poems.


	3. Prompt 3

**"photographs on the wrong side of your eyes"**

Characters: Robert, Maurice  
Word count: 100  
Prompt: Polaroid  
Rating: G

* * *

"Daddy! Daddy look at me!" Robert runs on the beach, laughing at the feeling of water between his toes. His father glances at him, grunts, and turns back to his newspaper. The boy is only momentarily disappointed, but soon he's giggling as the waves lap at his chin.

In the end, as always, it is his mother who snaps a picture, giving him the developing photograph. He waves it around like a flag, the surface smeared with sandy fingerprints.

An older Robert places a framed Polaroid beside his father's bed. This time, he hopes, his father will look.


	4. Prompt 4

**Audition**

Characters: Arthur, Cobb, Nash  
Word Count: 100  
Rating: G  
Prompt: Nash

* * *

"Well?" Nash is standing in a city he built, and it's pretty damn good if he says so himself.

"A bit slow." The one in the suit - Arthur. Sometimes, Nash wants to punch him in the face to see if he has any emotions at all, the robot.

"Better maze than the other architect, though." They murmur quietly, while Nash conjures up an armchair. After a few minutes, Cobb seems to have reached a decision, one that makes Arthur frown. Must be good news then.

"Welcome to the team." Arthur doesn't offer a hand. Nash grins insolently at him.


	5. Prompt 5

**Aphrodisiac**

Word count: 100  
Characters: Yusuf, Eames, implied Arthur/Ariadne  
Prompt: "You want me to what?"  
Rating: G

* * *

"You want what?" Yusuf was sitting in his lab, surrounded by glassware, while Eames slouched against the door.

"Surely something like a simple aphrodisiac would be no trouble for a chemist of your calibre?"

If only people would stop treating him like a walking pharmacy. "Chemistry is a precise art. Aphrodisiacs aren't simple - they're more complex than you think." He paused. "Why do you want it anyway?"

"Because if Arthur doesn't shut up about Ariadne soon I'm going to snap and hurt someone."

Yusuf was about to reply, but stopped. It _was_ getting annoying.

"It'll be ready on Monday."


	6. Prompt 6

_A/N: Two for the price of one!_

**Calligraphy**

Word count: 100  
Character: Arthur  
Rating: G  
Prompt: Forging

* * *

Occasionally, research needs forging.

Not in dreams – that's Eames' job – but sometimes he'll pick up a pen and stop being himself for a while. He'll watch as his hand writes someone else's words, the ink dancing across paper in lazy, alien ways.

It's not necessary. It would probably be easier to do things electronically, where the subtle nuances of handwriting don't exist and can't tip off the target, making everyone's jobs that much harder.

Maybe he's just old-fashioned, but the _scritch_ of pen against paper is comforting. It's a small (private) indulgence of his.

* * *

**Con Man**

Character: Eames

* * *

It's interesting, how skills apply across jobs. Before he met Cobb, he was a con man, turning brass into gold and selling dreams.

When he started going into dreams, well. Confidence and sleight of hand had served him well in his old job, and Eames found out that the right combination of righteous I'm-meant-to-be-here indignation and withering stare managed to get you anywhere, even while masquerading as someone else.

When he decided to become more respectable, not due in any way to parental nagging, he decided to put "actor" on his resume. It wasn't entirely a lie.


	7. Prompt 7

**Inflammable**  
Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Prompt: Accidental Discovery  
Characters: Ariadne, Yusuf

As Ariadne walks into the abandoned warehouse, she's greeted with the melodic tinkling of glassware and the sounds of muted traffic behind her. She hurries to her workbench, checking her latest models, when the acrid smell of burning rubber hits her. Seconds later, there's a small _woompf_ as Yusuf staggers back, grinning. She rushes over, fire extinguisher in hand.

"No, no, no!" Yusuf holds her back. "It's fine!" His hair is frazzled and on closer inspection he's missing part of his beard. She raises an eyebrow quizzically.

"Really!" He beams. "I think I know what I did wrong this time!"

**Limbo**  
Character: Saito

_So. Limbo. _

Saito took in the crumbling city. It was not a welcoming vista, but he would adapt. He owed his success to adapting to different situations. He could do this.

Stepping in the ruins of the city, he suddenly thought of the castle where he met Cobb, and just as suddenly it was in front of him. So this was... dream building? It was far easier than he thought. He'd have to experiment further.

Saito allowed himself a small smile. Limbo should be a bearable place...

..._until he came ashore, holding a gun and a top, still spinning..._


	8. Prompt 8

**guilty by proxy**  
Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Character: Miles  
Prompt: Never regret anything because at one time it was exactly what you wanted.

_Creation should be for creation's sake._

_I never taught you to steal._

But he gave him the tools for it (hell, he _made_ them), and he never stopped him from dreaming. He was responsible for the theft of people's secrets, the invasion of people' minds by never doing anything, by turning a blind eye.

He watched as Ariadne followed Cobb, a tentative smile on her face. Another student lost to the world of dreams, to building what they _could_ and not what they _can_.

(Who was he kidding. He lost the right to tell people what to do long ago.)

**No, I regret nothing.**  
Character: Cobb/Mal

_Non, rien de rien  
_"Mal?" She's sitting at the bar, sipping a drink._  
_"Yes?"_  
_"Dance with me?" She smiles and takes his hand.

_Non, je ne regrette rien__  
_"Don't you have somewhere to be? Like your class?" _  
_He just smiles as he hands her the needle. "Not when I'm with you."

_Car ma vie c__ar mes joies  
_"I dreamed that we would grow old together..."_  
_He pulls out the ring.

_Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi!__  
_"Got your totem?" Cobb checks the PASIV one last time._  
_She brushes his face with her fingertips._  
_"I don't need one when I'm with you."


	9. Prompt 9

**Of Carpets and Love**  
Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Character/Pairing: Saito, Saito/Carpet  
Prompt: Periwinkle  
Warning: Crackfic ahoy!

Saito didn't often dream, but in the privacy of his office, he took out the PASIV machine from its hiding place and hooked himself up. Walking through familiar corridors, he stopped in front of a nondescript apartment and opened the door.

The door was carpeted inside. The walls were carpeted and so was the ceiling, for that matter. Saito sat down on the periwinkle (carpet-covered) sofa, noting his subconscious' excellent taste in décor. Kicking off his shoes he ran his toes through the shag carpet on the floor, relishing the feeling.

"Wool. Not polyester." He let out a contented sigh.


	10. Prompt 11

_A/N: Missed prompt 10._

**Till Death Do Us Part**  
Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Characters/Pairing: Saito, Saito's wife.  
Prompt: An unachievable love is still love.

He's going on another business trip. She used to ask where he was going, but it didn't take long for her to realize that it didn't matter in the end.

He nods at them. "I'll bring back something for you," he says to their youngest. He shys away a little. Saito's answering smile is a carefully constructed façade.

Once he parted with a kiss. Then it was a peck, then a hug, then a wave and now a glance. But it's alright. She knows he doesn't really love them, but he still takes care of them. It's a small consolation.


	11. Prompt 12

**the day isn't getting any better**  
Word count: 100  
Rating: PG-13 for a bad swear.  
Characters: Arthur, Eames  
Prompt: F*ck you!  
A/N: Partly inspired by an inception_kink prompt: "Eames' name is actually Gaylord Maverick Eames."

Eames adjusts his sunglasses as he walks into their new headquarters. Head pounding, he turns the corner and sees Arthur sitting in the centre of the room, looking smug. He's holding a coffee in one hand and a plain brown folder in the other.

"Good morning, Eames." Eames grunts and sits down. "Or should I say... Gaylord?"

He doesn't even try to hide the grin on his face. Eames bolts upright, all thoughts of headaches and drinking binges the night before vanishing from his mind.

"How-"

Arthur's laughing so hard he can barely breathe. "Point man, remember?"

"Fuck you, Arthur."

**Disillusionment**  
Rating: PG-13 for cluster f-bomb.  
Characters: Robert, Browning

"Robert? Robert, are you there?"

Uncle Pete – no, Browning, calls from the hallway. Robert pauses for a while, before continuing his work, fragmenting the company so that he can start his own.

"Robert! How've you been?"

He wants to say:

Fuck you, Browning. Fuck you.

(He says: "Good, Uncle Pete.")

All these years – you never cared about me, you never cared about how I felt.

(He smiles. It's tight, fake. Browning must know.)

You just wanted the company, didn't you? Well fuck you, it's my company and I'll do what I want with it.

(He nods. Robert is left alone.)


	12. Prompt 13

_A/N: both are crossovers._

**Elements of Architecture**

Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Characters: Ariadne, Tom Hansen [(500) Days of Summer]  
Prompt: a crossover with any fandom.

A/N: Written for a friend who ships Tom/Ariadne.

There's a newcomer to the café that Ariadne frequents. He's silent as he watches the people passing by, slowly sipping his drink. She bumps into him as she leaves, dropping her textbooks.

He immediately starts to help her pick them up. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." She stands up, cradling the books.

He reads out one of the textbook titles. "_Elements of Architecture, From Form to Place. _You're a student here?"

"Yeah." He smiles.

"I studied architecture too."

"Really? Wow."

"My name's Tom."

"Ariadne." She would shake his hand but the books are in the way. "See you tomorrow, I guess."

**Serious, serious, serious**

Characters: Eames, Kitten [Breakfast on Pluto]"In fact... your mummy's just walked through the door!"

Eames is met with a cry of "Mummy!" He staggers back; the man clings onto him like he's drowning and Eames is his lifeline. He's a mess of curly brown hair, flailing limbs and _incredibly_ blue eyes. It takes Eames a while to realize he's (she's) in women's clothes.

It's not going to be a normal night.

Luckily the hypnotist on stage snaps his fingers. His assistant blinks, looks around and retreats back to the stage.

"Thank you, Kitten."

Kitten looks lost, like she's still searching for her mother. They bow.


	13. Prompt 14

**(im)perfect**

Word count: 100  
Characters: Dom, Shade!Mal  
Rating: G  
Prompt: Beauty doesn't strive off of the wonderful and amazing - it comes from the broken and destroyed and works to make it something more.

* * *

A hand snakes itself around his shoulder, winding up, up, up... her voice is like a siren's call.

_Beauty, Dom. Perfection is not beauty. Perfection is a dream. Beauty is a shattered mirror put back together so it glitters and_shines_ so much brighter than before.  
_  
Cobb shudders. He grips the edge of the window that has appeared in front of him, with billowing curtains and its counterpart in front.

_Look at me, Dom, my darling. Tell me you love me!_

He knows she is no more than memories rearranged and repurposed, love and guilt entwined.

She is beautiful regardless.


	14. Prompt 15

**a Thousand Cranes for a Thousand Fragile Wishes**

Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Character: Saito  
Prompt: Hobby  
Warnings: experimenting with stream of consciousness, a notable lack of Capitalization

* * *

you are meant to have one wish for every thousand perfect flightless lifeless paper cranes you make and it's a lie, only you can grant wishes, nothing more - it doesn't matter what you use, actions, influence or, yes, money

he once wished he could breathe life into the paper animals all around him, he would throw handfuls of angular birds into the rushing wind, watch them soar

(he did in dreams but that's not reality so it doesn't count)

he still folds them, the creases in the paper sharp and precise

he owns an entire box of dead wishes.


	15. Prompt 16

**Attention Seeker**

Word count: 100  
Characters: Yusuf, Yusuf's cat  
Rating: G  
Prompt: You're so oblivious it drives me crazy!

* * *

Yusuf is throwing clothes haphazardly into the bag, layered on top of each other in a rumpled mess. You yowl and rub your head against his leg, but he ignores you and keeps on packing, wrapping the delicate tinkling glassware carefully.

You shoot your best death glare at his luggage. You will not lose to it this day.

Carefully circling behind Yusuf, you slip into full-on hunting mode. If you jump just so, right now –

Your beautiful almost-pounce is interrupted when he picks you up to give you a goodbye cuddle, and you think he's not completely oblivious after all.


	16. Prompt 17

**Humor Comes In Many Forms**

Word count: 7x100  
Characters: Yusuf, Saito, Arthur, Ariadne, Eames, Cobb  
Rating: G  
Prompt: You're so punny.  
_A/N: This actually started life as my drabble idea outline. I may expand on each one. There is a drabble for each character of this original drabble._

Yusuf loves to tell pathetic science-jokes that no one really gets.

Saito loves Canis Latinus. And when he feels informal, Ig-Pay Atin-Lay.

Arthur has deadpan snarkery down to a fine art.

Ariadne is the self-appointed pungeon master.

Eames has a monopoly on innuendo and the obvious jokes that people groan at, but need to be told anyway.

Cobb has all the sanitized jokes and the "kid-friendly" knock-knock jokes, but once Arthur got him so drunk he started telling the most politically incorrect jokes that he's ever heard, prompting him to quietly steer a horrendously drunk Cobb out of the bar.

* * *

**obscure chemistry**

Yusuf's giggling is a strangely infectious sound.

To Ariadne's untrained eye, he seemed to be circling random elements on a tattered photocopy of the periodic table, laughing maniacally. Surrounded by scattered highlighters and pens, the monochrome sheet is becoming more and more colorful by the second.

When he went out for lunch, Ariadne took the opportunity to inspect his work, finding some sort of bizarre chemical code.

In neon yellow, _"Carbon Holmium Cobalt Lanthanum Tellurium"._

"_Iodine Nitrogen Cerium Phosphorous Titanium Oxygen Nitrogen"_ is written in pencil, with a little heart adorning it.

Signed,

_Yttrium Uranium Sulfur Uranium Fluorine. _

Ariadne groaned.

* * *

**Instant Culture Just Add -us (-ium, -icum or –ae)**

It started as a private joke between friends, studying at a stifling boarding school. As a "cultured gentleman" he was naturally expected to learn some dusty old dead language, and Latin had seemed the most useful of the lot.

Saito had no idea how it had snowballed out of control. As far as he could remember it started with the phrase _Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur._ Or in English, "anything said in Latin seems profound."

It might have just been a form of quiet rebellion in a predetermined life, but it was the basis of some very fond memories.

* * *

**privacy**

Not showing laughter is not the same as not having a sense of humor. He just doesn't like to expose his feelings.

She knows him well enough by now to know when he's secretly amused, or sarcastic, or annoyed. He, in turn, knows when to laugh, groan, or fake sob at her puns. Most of the time it's fake sob (but in private, when they're alone in his apartment and he's next to her on his bed).

He may revisit this view, though. Eames' expression (jaw-on-floor stunned) when he fires back with a "that's what she said" is absolutely _priceless.

* * *

_

**over the top**

The sun was streaming through the warehouse doors, painting everything a warm orange. Dust motes danced through the air, giving the scene a film grain feel.

Ariadne strode inside, one hand holding a coffee, the other a paper bag holding her breakfast. Setting her food on the table, she looked at the incomplete models.

"This level will be absolutely... _a-maze-ing._"

The sunglasses come off in a truly ridiculous sweep, her lips pursed and eyes set in (what she thinks is) a flinty-eyed glare. She flips her phone open, and the familiar strains of a familiar Who song come on.

_YEEAAAAAHHHH!

* * *

_

**that's what she said**

The "hilariously inappropriate" is somewhat of a specialty of mine.

I mean, someone has to take the terrible, strenuous job of making the obvious connections and the stupid jokes that have been told since time immemorial. Someone needs to uphold the high standards of low humor and dirty jokes, especially with such an uptight group of people – well, it's mainly Arthur.

Winding up the point man is an achievement in and of itself. Getting any emotion from him at all is a challenge, which makes victory so much sweeter.

Especially when the retort in question is "that's what she said."

* * *

**s'okay, I was never going to run for office anyway**

They were both sitting at a bar, nursing their respective drinks. In an attempt to liven up their conversation, the subject had turned to jokes. In retrospect, this was a Bad Idea.

"Come on. You must know something other than bog-standard 'knock-knock' jokes," Arthur teased.

"There's nothing wrong with knock-knock jokes." Cobb almost sounded like a child.

Five hours and the equivalent in alcohol later, the jokes were far less sanitized.

"Oooh, did I tell you the one with the-"

"You did." And I wish you hadn't, thought Arthur as he grabbed Cobb and hauled him out of the bar.


	17. Prompt 18

**Choices**

_Apologies for the delay!_

Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Characters: Robert Fischer, Ariadne  
Prompt: Sacrifice

* * *

Choices are sacrifices.

Live a life of luxury or give it all up. Do what everyone thinks you should or go your own way. Break up your father's work and rise from the ashes.

For another dreamer, it's a choice between throwing away normality for the allure of dreams. Of losing yourself in the impossible and forgetting what's real, crossing the line so many times it blurs, making it impossible to tell the difference.

You have to make a choice. You have to give up, give away, get rid of the chance of more crossroads and deal with the consequences.


	18. Prompt 18, part 2

_A/N: Due to lack of prompts I decided to write another one._

**i don a new name like a new change of clothes**

Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Characters: Unnamed OC  
Prompt: Sacrifice. Originally written for another prompt, "my name" and adapted.

Names are: a mask, a label.

So much is placed on a name (Trustworthy. Sly. Rich. Poor.) and so much can be gained from one.

Some people think names define you, that they encapsulate your entire identity.

In my line of work names are as disposable as trash, to be used once and thrown away. Rip open the file, take out the name, wear it once. Do not use again, dispose of correctly, thank you very much–

I go/have gone by so many names I'm not sure which is mine anymore, or if they are all a part of me.


	19. Prompt 19

**One More Time**

Word count: 100  
Rating: G  
Characters: Dom, Mal  
Prompt: Temptation

* * *

Dom's like a child at a toy store, eyes bright and full of wonder. He laughs, staring at his surroundings, raising building after building after building, reveling in the feeling.

"Five! Five levels! No one's ever been down this far before, Mal!" His giddiness is addictive and Mal can't help but smile with him.

"Dom, shouldn't we stop? We've got more than enough proof that the concept of a dream within a dream is viable."

"Why stop now when we can go even deeper? Imagine what we'll discover."

He hands her the cannula with a theatrical flourish. "Just one more."


	20. Prompt 19, part 2

"**they come here to wake up!"**

_A/N: the community seems, sadly, dead._  
Word count: 100  
Characters: Unnamed  
Rating: G  
Prompt: Temptation

Lately he's noticed his dreams are repeating themselves.

There's the room that looks like someone's basement. A rat's nest of wires hangs from the ceiling amidst the bare bulbs, trailing down like an umbrella frame. The rhythmic hiss of machinery is the only sound in the room.

He never has control over himself; he's reduced to an observer in his own body. There's the young man who takes some money (sometimes they exchange pleasantries), the comfortable chair where he lies down while the man swabs his arm and inserts a needle and then –

He always wakes up at that part.


	21. Christmas! Prompt 45

_A/N: Long time no see! Sorry for the extended hiatus. Hopefully I can write on a more reasonable schedule soon._

**Christmas Present**

**Word count**: 100  
**Rating**: G  
**Characters**: Dom, James and Phillipa  
**Prompt**: #45, Presents

Dom snuck down the stairs, trying as hard as he could to stay quiet. The kids were both asleep on the couch, having given up on the idea of trying to catch Santa.

He crouched down, planting his feet consciously on the stairs. The (borrowed) suit was too tight, the stairs were creaky and his nerves were on edge. The lights on the tree cast eerie shadows everywhere.

At least he got cookies at the end of this.

The next morning, surrounded by his family and a blizzard of shredded wrapping paper, he thought: yes, it was worth it all.


	22. Prompt 49

**Just Science**

**Word count:** 100  
**Prompt:** 49, Fireworks  
**Characters**: Yusuf  
**Rating:** G

Yusuf had no idea how his siblings had gotten their hands on a box of fireworks. They looked like little spaceships, nose cones pointed at the sky, ready to launch. He watched as they grabbed a handful each, pointing them up and lighting the long fuse then running.

A steady hiss. Then –

The sky lit up in an explosion of colour. Blinding green and vibrant reds arced across the sky, leaving smoky trails behind. Yusuf was dazzled; surely there must be magic involved!

When he asked his brother about it, he smiled and ruffled Yusuf's hair. "No magic. Just science."


	23. Prompt 50, past prompt 21

**Paralysis**

**Word count:** 100  
**Prompt:** 50, Past Challenges - 21, Trapped  
**Character:** Unnamed OC  
**Rating:** G

("There might be some quirks with the machine. Just, y'know, teething problems. Nothing big.")

It's very dark. Maybe my eyes are closed. Or maybe the light's off. Why would the lights be off?

Maybe if I could just get up to flick the switch –

_can't move – _

if I could just open my eyes –

_can't breathe – _

I'm stuck, I'm stuck and I'm choking and I can't see please let this be the dream let me wake up LET ME WAKE UP NOW

_Light_. "Hey! You okay?"

I take the proffered hand and sit up, somewhat shakily.

_A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!_

"Hell of a teething problem."


	24. Prompt 50, past prompt 39

**Cold Front**

**Word count: **100  
**Prompt: **#50 Past Challenges - #39, a picture of a snowy road  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Ariadne  
**Rating: **G

It's much colder than it has any right to be. The desk lamp is the only source of light in the room, casting shadows on the new plans. Ariadne swears, tugging at her shirt's sleeves. The cold has frozen her hands and her mind; work is impossible.

A mug of something warm appears over her right shoulder. She doesn't have to turn around to see who it is. Ariadne takes the mug gratefully, slowly wrapping stiff fingers around it.

"Sometimes I think you work too hard, Ari."

Arthur drapes his coat over her shoulders. She kisses his cheek, in thanks.


End file.
